


Sweet Temptation

by halfpastten



Series: Pokemon Smut Collection [30]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Groping, Hand Jobs, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Feminization, Mildly Dubious Consent, Perverted Old Man meets Naive Young Man, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Imbalance, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:01:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23300569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfpastten/pseuds/halfpastten
Summary: Kurt is, at the end of the day, just a man. So when a young man to his liking is asking for an apprenticeship, he seizes the opportunity.AN: For those who don't know Kurt: He's from Pokemon Gold/Silver and around 60. The age difference in this story isveryprominent, with Lysander being 18.
Relationships: Original Male Character(s)/Gantetsu | Kurt (Pokemon)
Series: Pokemon Smut Collection [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615384
Kudos: 28





	1. The Apprentice

**Chapter 1**

It was calm and peaceful in the small town called Azalea. Ever since that kid Gold had come and kicked Team Rocket out, nothing much had changed.

Kurt was still working on his craft, the only one to provide trainers with handcrafted Apricorn balls. Maizie, his granddaughter, had moved to Saffron City to be closer to her father, something Kurt was as glad about as he was sad. She'd been one of the few people he'd felt close to, and now that she was gone, he was mostly alone except some visitors and customers. But he was... content, at least, if not fully happy. The truth was that he was old and a life of hard work had aged him beyond his 58 years. Both his wife and his daughter were dead (it would never stop to hurt him, no matter that he still had Maizie), his friends were living far away for him to visit without abandoning his work, and while quite a few Trainers and Professors appreciated his craft, he had yet to find anyone to pass it on to, with the exception of his granddaughter. But Maizie was young - too young to start an official apprenticeship under Kurt, who feared that at the time she was done with school and ready to move in, his hands would've lost their steadiness.

It was something that weighed heavily on his mind. A young lad or gal would be perfect, someone out of school and with little attachments. Someone with the time, the dedication and the skills to learn what it took to handcraft his delicate Apricorn balls. But most of all someone he could trust not to abuse this knowledge.

It was an old wish of his, one he hadn't much hope for. With the big corporations and their handy Pokeballs, his art was a dying one, so he could only hope to keep going until Maizie would come back.

\---

It was early summer - the whole of Johto was enjoying sunny, hot days with the occasional rainfall. The Apricorns were nice and ripe - the perfect time for harvest. Kurt was getting ready for a visit into the forest, his wicker basket and long stick close to the door when he heard someone knocking.

"Typical," he murmured as he walked towards it. Of course, he'd forget to set up the sign to tell people that he'd go out - now he had to be bothered by some customer. Lately, a lot of kids had roamed around. Gold had gone and become Champion, which caused a flood of new, young Trainers to romp around Johto, causing trouble. "I'm sorry, but it's closed," he called even while opening the door - and then he stopped, staring at the decidedly not-a-kid man standing there with a startled look.

Oh, it was a young man - barely legal, his mind provided, as he let his eyes roam over the attractive male. Tanned skin and a handful freckles; a slim body and delicate features; the biggest, greenest eyes Kurt had ever seen set in a human face framed by curls the colour of dark chocolate. Kurt felt a sharp twist of attraction towards him, which softened his own features as he unconsciously licked his suddenly too-dry lips.

"Oh," the young man said, pretty face falling a bit. "Maybe I can come back later, then?"

Kurt fought with himself for a moment before giving in, opening the door a bit more. "No, no," he said and nodded at him. "Let's see what you want, maybe I can find some time." Find some time his ass - Kurt knew exactly why he was inviting the stranger into his home, closing the sliding door behind him. It was a pretty young guy wearing a summer shirt and shorts, the latter just fitting enough for Kurt to appreciate the curve of that perky ass. The old craftsman had never been one to lie to himself when it came to his faults and his weakness for cute things, may they be male or female, was one of his biggest. His late wife had been, after all, the prettiest girl of Azaela town back in their days.

"Thank you so much," the stranger said, a bright and honest smile on his face. "I'm Lysander, by the way. I'm sorry for bothering you." He dropped into a polite bow before taking off his shoes, which Kurt could appreciate. His was a traditional style house, but quite a lot of his younger customers had to be reminded of it.

"Eh, it's alright. Come, let's sit down. I can't offer any tea - I planned to go check on my trees today and already put the oven out." Kurt gestured to the seating area for guests - not only to be polite himself, but to also get a better look at the visitor's behind. What could he say - he was an old man, but he was still a man. When they both were seated on the mats, Lysander's backpack to his side and his shapely legs crossed, Kurt's mood was nice and high despite the disruption. "So. Lysander. I gather you know who I am: Kurt, the Pokeball smith. Now, how can I help you?"

To his surprise, the look Lysander gave him was quite admiring. Kurt didn't fancy that it was because of his own appearance - his handsome days were long gone, after all -, but despite his reputation, only a few people would look at him that way. Might be his prickly nature. He wasn't usually this welcoming to strangers, and surely not to old friends who should know him better. For a pretty boy, however, he could be a bit more charming.

Especially if the pretty boy was blushing quite fetchingly, if only ever so slightly. "I'm actually here to ask if you're looking for an apprentice," Lysander blurted out, his words betraying his nerves. They were still quite surprising for Kurt, who raised his bushy eyebrows.

"What?" he said, a bit taken aback. Maybe he had gotten even older overnight and his ears weren't working right. Just this morning he'd lamented the lack of young people wanting to take on the craft, so he couldn't quite believe that someone had finally come to him. Especially not such a pretty one.

"I know I don't look like it," Lysander continued, even more anxious now - he'd probably taken Kurt's exclamation in the wrong way. "But I promise I'll work hard and with the most respect if you'll have me."

 _I wish_ , Kurt couldn't help but think. What he wouldn't do to have someone like Lysander in his old days. His stomach gave another warm twitch and he shifted a bit in his seat, watching as Lysander bowed again, probably to hide his nerves. _But my ears haven't given up on me, yet. He's serious - but can I just agree?_ Kurt was a man of the old school, which meant that his apprentices would've to go through the same trouble that he'd gone through, back when he'd learned the craft. Having someone like Lysander at his side would be a lot of trouble indeed, for both of them.

His fingers itched, but he kept them calm. "Let's see," he hedged, thinking of what he should do. It was almost too perfect, but also very, very dangerous. He tried to picture Lysander working here, always close and pretty to look at, and had to swallow. "Why Pokeball smithing? There are so many other crafts young people like you should be more interested in."

He watched Lysander as the young man searched for the right words. He could see the soft frown forming on his brow, the thoughtful look in his eyes. His gaze hung for a moment on the long lashes before dropping to those soft lips. When they moved, Kurt forced himself to move his eyes up again. "I'm from Olivine City," he started, shifting a bit in his seat. "I was always fascinated with the works of Pokeballs, even though I'm not a Trainer myself. Naturally, I heard of your work, but it was only last year when I first saw one of your Apricorn balls. It was beautiful." Again the youth gave Kurt an admiring look, one that left the old man a bit restless. It was just too easy to imagine the young man looking up at him like that, pretty lips stretched around- Kurt pulled his thoughts away from that image, already feeling the dangerous curl of heat between his legs.

Really, he was far too old to entertain these fantasies.

"There are not many who are interested in the craft," he said and couldn't help but feel validated by Lysander. "And even then, those people mostly just want to make use of it, instead of learning it themselves. I would take you as my apprentice, at least for a while to see if you have any talent for it, and for longer if I think you have promise. But I'm traditional. I demand much from those who want to learn. If you accept, you'll live here with me and do as I say. It's hard, but honest work."

He knew that it was a mistake the moment Lysander truly _beamed_ at him. Gods, but he looked so pretty and uncorrupted. "I'd love to have you as my master," he gushed, dropping into another low bow, and Kurt had the sudden, powerful wish to _ruin_ him thoroughly. And now he had to restrain himself for however long Lysander would work for him.

A terrible thought occurred to the old craftsman: He only had so much space in his home. Lysander would've to sleep in the same room with him.

He was doomed.

"Very well," he said, trying to keep his voice steady as his brain immediately was filled with quite the perverted fantasies. It was near impossible to push them away, but at least he tried. "I'd suggest that you go and prepare for it, then, if you aren't. Come again next week with whatever you need for the next month, which will be the time for you to prove yourself. Anything else we can talk about when the time comes."

"Thank you, master!" Lysander said, and Kurt silently groaned.

\---

It didn't surprise Kurt one bit when, after an exhausting day of collecting ripe Apricorn fruits, the only thing he could think about was his new apprentice-on-trial. Lying his old body onto the futon, he tried to quickly fall asleep - he was tired and tomorrow was another long day, after all.

It obviously didn't work. Despite his exhaustion, his body felt restless with the pent-up energy of a whole different kind. It had been a long time since Kurt had really thought about this peculiar basic need. He was old, damn it, not a youngster with a whole life in front of him still, and yet he felt himself growing hard when he thought about Lysander and his perky ass. Come next week, the young man would sleep just an arm's length away from him.

 _I'm an old pervert_ , Kurt thought with a resigned sigh as he slipped one work-worn hand down his sleeping trousers. His fingers brushed the coarse pubic hair, just as grey as the hair on his head, before reaching his cock. Wrapping them around his thick shaft, he let his mind wander to places he'd just barely avoided while facing the boy. It really felt like being young again, lying in bed and jerking off to his own fantasies, breath growing laboured and skin flushing with heat until he messily came against the palm of his hand.

At least his age hadn't taken his libido yet, although it could prove problematic in the future. Kurt knew himself very good, after all. And he'd never been good to deny himself temptations.


	2. Closing In

**Chapter 2**

He'd been right. He was absolutely _bad_ at resisting any temptations, especially not one so prettily wrapped up like Lysander. The young man had returned to the start of the week with a couple of bags and a sweet, bright smile that went right through Kurt's cock like the dirty old man he was.

The first day was... eye-opening. Lysander was polite and cheerful as he followed Kurt through his usual working day, sitting far too close to watch him work with plain admiration in his eyes. He was like a puppy that wanted to please its owner, which had Kurt struggling with sudden ideas that involved collars and leashes. He also smelled good - some kind of faint, fruity scent he was probably using with his shampoo. And he had absolutely no personal space, especially not when enraptured by the way Kurt was preparing an Apricorn to be made into a ball, at which point his new apprentice-on-trial was practically glued on Kurt's side, their thighs pressed together.

He was ready to explode half a day into this, his fingers always itching to touch. Surely a little caress or squeeze wouldn't be bad? He might not even notice. Lysander certainly seemed like someone who was gullible enough to just accept a bit of... bodily affection. A puppy with a wagging tail when patted.

He really should stop thinking like that.

The first night with him on a futon not even an arm's length away is torture. Seeing him in airy cotton pyjamas, perfect for the summer and devastating to Kurt's blood pressure had made him regret so much. Trying to sleep was worse - his body was acutely aware of every little move he made, every soft breath he took. It was surprisingly difficult to fall asleep with a raging boner and he wasn't even in a situation where he could enjoy having one.

Still, he tried valiantly and kept his thoughts and fantasies to himself. For all of three days, that is, when all of this came crumbling down when Kurt took Lysander to the Apricorn trees. It had been such a nice idea as well - let the youngster do the hard work of harvesting. Kurt hated the ladder more with each year, and now he had perfectly able help to do it for him, right?

"Are you sure you want to wear that?" Kurt asked carefully as he watched Lysander apply some sun lotion on his long, tanned legs. The boy was wearing denim shorts that had been cut off halfway down the soft-looking thighs. The boy looked up, his hands still moving up and down his legs to massage in the lotion. Kurt felt his fingers itch at the sight.

"Should I wear something else?" Lysander asked with a little frown on his brow and probably wondering what could be wrong with his current attire. Then his face cleared up. "Are there many brambles on the way?"

Kurt hesitated - the way was nicely maintained, not a bramble in sight. Sighing, he shook his head and patted the young man's shoulder, who preened a bit. "No, it's okay. When you get to my age, you're a bit more careful about sunburns, is all," he said, his fingers lingering just a moment too long on him before he pulled away.

At least Lysander was a very pleasant companion, no matter Kurt's own failings of keeping his eyes away from that nice curve of ass so close by. He was right home in the early summer sunshine, carrying both the basked and the stick for his master as they walked the path towards Kurt's Apricorn trees and asking a dozen questions about the care for them. He had a good head on his shoulders and obvious experience with gardening, which would come in handy.

"See, those there? Those're the ripe ones we need to get. If you pick them too early, they're way too hard for even our steel tools to get through. Wait too long, and they'll be too soft to make good balls." The ladder was quickly set up against the gnarly trunk of the first tree, but it was an old, wooden one Kurt'd never bothered to replace. With the stick in hand to hit any fruits further up, Lysander started to climb it only for the damn thing to wobble.

It was, Kurt would swear until his dying day, an accident when he reached up to steady the boy and put his hands right on the seat of his bum instead on grabbing his hips. That, however, didn't change the slight startle it gave Lysander, nor the fantastic feeling of his fingers digging into that soft, perky flesh where thighs and ass cheeks met, thumbs sliding slightly up. For one tiny moment, Kurt panicked before he just... kept going, really, stepping with one foot onto the ladder to stabilize it, his hands gripping Lysander's ass nice and steady.

"Um," the young man said. When Kurt looked up, he saw a blush dusting his freckled cheeks in an entirely too-cute way.

"No need to be nervous, lad," Kurt said with false cheer, his own heart rapidly beating. "It won't totter anymore, as long as I'm here. Go and get those Apricorns, we still have quite a few trees to go through!"

The blush got a tiny bit darker, but then Lysander turned around again, stretching his hands to get to the fruits as he was told. "That's a good lad," Kurt couldn't help but add, staring at the way his hands cupped that young ass. It felt certainly great, but now he had to struggle against his urge to really dig in - Lysander might tolerate an old fool not noticing where he was putting his hands, but Kurt doubted that the boy would stay that calm when said old fool started to massage his bum. Even now he could see Lysander startle every now and then when he moved, and with him Kurt's old but strong fingers over his curves.

The blush didn't leave Lysander for the whole day out. Kurt was already digging his own grave here and now that he'd started this charade, he continued his highly inappropriate 'holding' onto his apprentice while Lysander climbed the ladder. At least his continued talking about the proper harvest of Apricorns, as well as some tactical cursing at the faulty ladder, had Lysander relatively calm and unsuspecting about the whole thing, no matter that it still affected him.

Kurt wondered how it was that some touches from an old man as himself could cause such a pretty blush, but that was a dangerous thought. He should just stop right now, he thought at the end of the day. It should be good enough for him to be able to grab some nice ass here and there, no need to entertain other ideas. He'd only make Lysander feel more uncomfortable. And what if he went too far? Then he'd be known as that old molester from Azalea Town, and that was it. Better be satisfied with what he had.

Only that the sensation of a nicely formed ass had been quite invigorating for him. Not only that, but despite his blushing, Lysander had kept his usual behaviour around Kurt, which included sliding up next to him during his work on the fruits - so close, in fact, that Kurt swore he could feel the heat radiating from the other man's body. No hesitation at all, despite all the grabbing from before. The combination of being _able_ to touch and not being chastised for it had Kurt rolling around in his futon, not even close to so much as _think_ about sleeping. Lysander was long gone, his soft snores far too close to Kurt's strained ears.

It was of no use - his cock had decided that this was his second springtime and was straining against his sleeping pants, so hard it hurt. Kurt turned around, eyeing the sleeping form of Lysander next to him through the darkness. Swallowing, he cursed himself silently in the safety of his own head as he reached down and between his legs, stealthily stroking his meat while staring at his apprentice. When he felt his breath getting laboured, he turned his head against his pillow to quieten any noise he could make, fingers wrapped tightly around his throbbing cock and pumping up and down until finally, he came.

Sucking in the air, Kurt rolled away from Lysander and onto his back, staring at the ceiling. _What are you doing, lusting after the kid_ , he cursed himself as the exhaustion finally arrived. _Silly old man, you'll only get in trouble._

\---

The problem was, Lysander was the kind of person who was just so... easy to take advantage of. He had a deep appreciation for Kurt, hanging onto his every word and eager for praise. Even someone not as crafty as the Pokeball smith would've had no difficulties to lead him on. Sure, he'd blush and startle and fidget around, but he never _said_ anything and probably didn't think anything of Kurt's casual touches. A hand on his shoulder with a slight squeeze, together with an encouraging word? It made Lysander smile. Kurt coming up from behind, arms around him and his hand on Lysander's to guide him through a step while pressing against him? It made Lysander positively _glow_ to get some hands-on help. Kurt putting his hand on his knee or thigh, thumb rubbing soothing circles while he explained some part of the process? Wide-eyed looks that were just so damn _cute_ , but not once did Lysander pull away or even look the slightest bit wary about it.

He just kept coming back, kept seeking Kurt's company and his praising words, making it impossible for the old man to resist. And with each day and each touch, Lysander startled from it less and less, obviously getting used to the closeness Kurt encouraged until he was almost always touching him in some fashion, caressing his arm or waist or sitting close to him while talking.

And each night, Kurt would release all the pent-up lust from the day while _staring_ at the peaceful, sleeping face of his apprentice, feeling like the creepy old bastard he was. It was unhealthy, what he did. Unhealthy and despicable, to treat the earnest young man this way. But his skin was so soft and warm against his greedy hands, his body just as Kurt liked it, his face blushing so prettily. It was so _easy_ to imagine Lysander on his knees, green eyes full of admiration, soft lips stretched around Kurt's cock, so eager to please and calling him 'master'. That specific fantasy never failed to get him off and with a good reason.

Despite all of this, the month of trial was over far too soon for Kurt's tastes. Lysander was a good student with a green thumb and good care for the craft - Kurt had no reason to deny him the full apprenticeship of three years. He didn't even want to send him away. The only argument _against_ taking him in was his own deprivation, but he'd long given up on that front.

Besides, he'd already gone and bought Lysander a few sets of a Pokeball smith's working clothes. No more too-short denim, no more airy tank top that exposed his shoulders and slim arms. It was almost sad to see that attire go, but Kurt _was_ quite traditional. Besides, he was rather keen on seeing Lysander in one of those sets. He could only pray that the boy wouldn't notice what kind his master had prepared for him.

"I want you to think hard about this, Lysander," he told him, voice stern for a difference. "When you accept, you'll have to dedicate a full three years to me, and only me. It's not something you can turn your back to lightly. But if you accept, I'll take care of you and be responsible for you, teach you everything I know and settle you with a good start, either in my employment or under your own when you finish."

"I'm already decided," Lysander replied, just as Kurt had thought. He'd never, not once, believed that Lysander wouldn't say yes - the boy obviously loved it here. It caused some anxiety inside Kurt, but also a deep satisfaction that was twisting his stomach in pleasant ways.

"Very well. Come with me, then," Kurt said and stood up. He led Lysander into the back room, where they were usually sleeping. Instead of their futons, which were safely stashed away in one of the cupboards, he'd laid out one of Lysander's new apprentice clothes which were similar to his own. This set was pale green of colour, made from good-quality cotton that would serve well during the heat of summer. Thicker, woollen ones for colder days could be ordered later. "Since you're officially my apprentice now, it's time for you to dress like one. Go on - try it out."

He watched Lysander dash forward. It took the boy some time to notice that Kurt wasn't leaving the room, which was why the old man was treated to the sight of Lysander pulling up his shirt, exposing his flat stomach and tanned skin. When Lysander noticed, however, he blushed quite fetchingly, eyeing his master with some uncertainty.

"You'll need some help," Kurt declared, feeling the heat rolling through his body. He hadn't planned for this, but it seemed like... not a good idea, but an idea at least. "Come, don't be shy. Those are of an older style, I reckon young people won't know what to do about it."

"Um, okay," Lysander said and accepted Kurt coming closer. He still hesitated slightly before pulling down his shorts. Kurt nearly groaned when he saw him almost naked, with only a pair of underwear on his slender, gorgeous body. He held to himself, though, willing down his growing erection - at least he'd learned quickly to tuck it a bit away so that it wouldn't be as obvious should he get a boner during the day. It was still a fight, especially when Lysander bend down to pick up the pants and get his feet through the holes.

Kurt could see the moment confusion hit the boy at the sight of a number of cords and knots. Stepping closer, Kurt eagerly put his arms around Lysander like he would do when showing him how to hold his tools. Only now Lysander's upper body was naked and warm and _soft_ , with Kurt's breath ghosting close to the boy's ear. "Like that," he said and couldn't help but drop his voice lower. Lysander shivered in his arms, which sent a lance of pure heat down Kurt's spine before nestling right between his legs. He held his breath and then put his hands on Lysanders, guiding the young man to tie the cords and knots together, adjusting the fit of the pants with them which would've been entirely too large otherwise. "They're one-size, so you have to tie them tightly. How is it?"

"Good," Lysander said with a shaky voice, but he made no move to get away from Kurt's embrace. He simply followed his silent instructions, letting Kurt get in some good contact across his waistband. Just a few inches below his hands was Lysander's cock, which was a thrilling thought for the old man. Shifting a bit, just to get a press against that delicious curve of youthful ass against his groin, Kurt let go of him, looking him over. The clothes he'd bought were of a decidedly feminine cut, which wouldn't be clear to an amateur's eye though. For Kurt, who was a traditional man, the differences between a man's cut and a woman's cut were glaringly obvious, though.

It suited Lysander eerily good. "Now the shirt," he said, his voice a tad rougher. This time, he got close from the front, fingers ghosting over the naked chest and belly of his apprentice as he fitted it close, tying it together with a white band around Lysander's waist. The boy's cheeks were flaming red now and his eyes lowered with something not unlike embarrassment, but Kurt couldn't stop immediately. With spread fingers, he started to smooth down any wrinkle out of the material, even going as far as going down on a knee to do the same along the pant legs. He felt Lysander shifting, and when he looked up, he was scarlet and his eyes slightly glazy.

"There you go," Kurt said and swallowed, throat suddenly dry. Getting up again, he took mentally notice of all the signs of arousal the boy was shyly displaying. "Looking like a proper apprentice, although you wear them a lot better than I did your age." His hand landed heavily on Lysander's shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles close to his neck. "Very fetching," he added and watched Lysander squirming - and his pupils dilating just a bit as he smiled from the praise.

"Thank you, master," he said, still anxious and a bit breathless. But then he looked up to meet Kurt's eyes. "I promise to make you proud!"

The old man was speechless for a moment before simply pulling him into a tight hug. Lysander hastily shifted his stance, but not before Kurt could notice a brush of a hard-on against him. Inside, however, his mind was racing - his touching obviously _had_ an effect on the youth. It was quite logical - back when he was that age, a stiff breeze could coax his cock into hardness, let alone someone else's hand so close by.

He could use that. It would be vile and even more lowly than his previous acts, but _he could use it._

\---

Watching Lysander walk and work around in his new clothes was a private delight for Kurt. Watching Lysander _blush_ and almost strut every time he so much as mentioned how fetching he looked in them even more so. Kurt was generally watching him closely after officially making him his apprentice - with every oh-so-casual touch, a step too close until he brushed against him, a squeeze too high on Lysander's shapely thigh or a hand resting at the small of Lysander's back, little and ring finger pressing into the swell of his ass, Kurt was watching him like a hawk, feeding at all the little signs of arousal it caused the boy. He was more awkward as well, during these times, but Kurt was fast to pepper in some casual praise while rubbing Lysander's shoulder or knee, or even caressing his soft cheeks and jawline. It helped with putting the boy at ease since he was already used to this closeness during work.

And then, slowly, Lysander started to actively seek out not only Kurt's praise but also his touches. Where before he was sitting too close out of a fascination for the work, he was now shifting closer with an anxious look until their thighs pressed together firmly. Whenever Kurt put an arm around his slender waist in something that, for an outsider, might have looked like mere camaraderie, Lysander was now leaning into it. Putting his arms around the boy to guide his hands was the best, though - it had Lysander press back right into the embrace, back to chest and sometimes, if Kurt just shifted himself right, even that perky ass against his lap.

It had the bitter taste of grooming to it, in those moments at night that Kurt had to himself as he grunted into his pillow, not as much caring anymore to keep total silence during his masturbation. But at the light of the day, when looking into those big, honest eyes beaming up at him? Then he didn't care as long as he was able to get close and intimate with Lysander without taking the smile from those soft lips.

Shifting his hips, he thrust into his clenched hand, a rough moan escaping him as he reminded himself on that warm and nubile body sleeping close to him. Today had been a day confined to the work stations, what with the heavy rain outside, which meant a _lot_ of Kurt 'showing' Lysander how to craft a Lure Ball. Oh, he took great care that the lad learned it well. He was a true master, after all. But he'd still snuggled up close, enjoying the sight of a breathless, embarrassed and flushing apprentice in his woman's clothing.

Kurt came with a sharp gasp and a rut against his hand and his futon before he stilled, slightly shivering from the orgasm. His breathing calmed down slowly when a rustle startled him. Opening his eyes, he watched as Lysander hastily turned around and away from Kurt in his own futon - too fast for him to be still asleep.


	3. Turning Point

**Chapter 3**

The next day, Lysander couldn't meet Kurt's eyes. From the moment both woke up again, his young apprentice was busy with avoiding Kurt's gaze, freckled face flush and anxious. It was more than Kurt needed to know that Lysander had seen him jerking off. Kurt himself tried to act normally, though - which meant that he was, at least, searching out Lysander's company and kept touching him.

The reactions he got today were so much more adorable than before. Feeling him _fidgeting_ while pressed close fed Kurt's overly perverted mind like nothing else. Knowing that Lysander knew about his nightly routine was even more exciting. It was another thing to use against the boy.

"Didn't you sleep well? You seemed nervous the whole day," Kurt oh-so-casually dropped when work was finally done and they sat down to eat. Lysander nearly choked on his rice and grilled fish, face scarlet from lack of air and embarrassment.

"I slept fine," he said hastily, but now he was sneaking not so subtle glances at Kurt, who kept his own face calm. He'd lived long enough to learn how to pretend well. "Did... did you, master?" Lysander then asked, halting and curious.

"Of course," Kurt replied evenly before giving Lysander another long look. "And don't you lie to me. Something's up, you're not acting like yourself."

His word hit true - immediately, the squirming began as Lysander was torn between wanting to say the truth and wanting to keep it from himself. This had to be quite humiliating for the lad, and Kurt felt pity for him. But more than that, he wanted him to spill the beans, if only because it would help Kurt with his own plans for the boy. It was all kinds of wrong, to do this - but after living with Lysander for almost two months, he was desperate for more than just feeling him up. He wanted Lysander, badly so, and he wanted him whole.

"I... might have seen..." The boy began, chewing on his lips. They looked so kissable that moment that Kurt had to reign in his urges lest he jumped the table to take him here and now. "I mean, it was an accident! I just heard something, and I woke up, and I saw- I saw you, um, doing stuff."

"Stuff?" Kurt asked, because he was already acting like a bastard, doing this to his precious apprentice. "What stuff? And when?"

Lysander's head could've been a red Apricorn itself, with how much blood rushed to his freckled cheeks. "At night," he blurted out, eyes firmly fixed on his own hands fisted on his lap. "Doing... things with yourself."

Kurt smiled - this was enough for him. "Ah, you saw me masturbating," he said and took a sip from his tea while Lysander sputtered at Kurt's nonchalant manner. "What? It's quite natural, isn't it? Don't tell me you don't do it yourself."

"I'm not," Lysander said hastily, eyes wide and finally looking at Kurt. "Not since- I mean, um, not since moving here."

"What?" Kurt said, careful to make him sound like he was surprised and maybe a bit shocked as well. "Lysander, that's hardly healthy! A young lad like you, with work as hard as ours?" He shook his head, delighted by Lysander's continuous embarrassment. "Now, I can hardly tell you what to do, but as your master, keeping you healthy is in my responsibility. There's no need to be ashamed about it, either. We're supposed to be close, after all. Why, when I was your age, I could hardly keep my hands away from my cock, apprenticeship or not." His eyes bore sternly into Lysander's, who was sitting there stiffly and uncomfortable - but also with rapt attention and eyes a bit too wide and dark. "A pretty boy like you should've no problem to find some release. We can see about that tonight, if you want."

He smirked into his teacup when Lysander took a sharp breath before mulling over his food - quietly pleased, as far as Kurt could see, about the compliment he'd just gotten.

\---

Getting ready for bed tonight was an experience. Lysander had stayed quiet, but now, for the first time since coming to Kurt, he was watching his master with keen eyes. Not just admiring and respectful - not even with just fondness. But assessing and thoughtful. It didn't diminish his blushing when Kurt decided to turn his head and stare right back, however.

Even when Kurt switched into his sleeping clothes, he could feel Lysander's eyes on him and Kurt asked himself what the boy saw - did he see the old man with grey hair on his head and chest, muscles already weakening? He wasn't hunched over yet, still stood tall and proud, but his skin was spotty and wrinkly, his face no longer handsome like it had been in his youth. Would Lysander notice that he'd done a mistake to trust Kurt? Or would he stay as gullible as before, letting Kurt lead him right into his futon to satisfy the needs of an old and perverted man thrice his age?

When all teeth were brushed and face washed, the futons rolled out and the lights outside of their room put out, Kurt sat down on his futon. Lysander, who'd made sure that everything was closed and secure, startled when he came in, his green eyes fixed on Kurt.

"Well then, come here," Kurt said decisively. He couldn't hesitate now - either it would work or not, and he was too old to keep wondering about. To his surprise, Lysander did come over and sat down in front of him, on Kurt's futon. He looked nervous but similarly determined as Kurt felt. His gaze was hesitant and curious, which was a good reassurance. "Not like that. Closer," Kurt said, opening his arms in the same way he'd when they worked together and he showed the boy what to do. Lysander's eyes flickered with the realization, cheeks flushing anew, but again he obeyed as he slid closer, turning around until he sat snug in front of his master, who pressed close. It was familiar, but also a lot more intimate. This was where they slept. Where Kurt would so often touch himself.

His arms closed around Lysander, chin propped on his shoulder. "Give me your hands," he said lowly, and the boy shivered as he did so. Together, their hands slid over his thighs, rubbing soothing circles over the soft flesh. Then upwards, legs parting.

"Master," Lysander said breathlessly when his own hands brushed against his cock, his pyjama pants still between. Then Kurt's hands followed, thumbs following the line of Lysander's growing erection. The things he did to Kurt, being so pretty and erotic.

The old man let go of Lysander's hands, his own cupping his apprentice's cock and balls through the thin fabric. He could feel him quickly harden, until his youthful, vigorous cock strained against the loose pants. Lysander had closed his eyes, leaning back against Kurt and lips parted as he simply breathed and enjoyed the sensation. A soft gasp escaped him when Kurt shoved one of his calloused hands down his pants, slightly crooked fingers first brushing through his curly pubic hair before reaching around the boy's shaft.

"My, are we eager," he whispered right into Lysander's ear, causing the boy to _whine_. Kurt's fingers twitched tighter in response, his free arm wrapping around Lysander's waist. With a pull, his apprentice was on Kurt's lap, the master's own hard cock pressing against Lysander's ass. "I'll take good care of you, Lysander."

Fisting his apprentice's cock tightly, he pulled it out from his pyjama pants and started jerking him off in slow, steady pumps. It was the first time he'd seen Lysander's cock and he marvelled at the smoothness of the shaft and the dark pubic hair surrounding it. He had a nice length, his girth perfect to fit in Kurt's hand, glans a dark red and swollen with need. Kurt watched raptly as he stroke that young, delicious looking cock, his mouth watering from the sight, his own dick twitching underneath Lysander's squirming ass. The boy was gasping now, low-pitched moans coming out of that open mouth ever so often. "Oh!" he would gasp, voice hitching when Kurt rubbed his callous thumb right underneath the glans before going down again.

"Does it feel good?" Kurt asked, his own voice rough with lust. "Lysander, does it feel good, my hand around your cock?"

"Y-yes," his boy whined, hips jutting up and into the hand fisting his cock. Precum was oozing out of the slit and running down the glans and the shaft. Kurt started to move his hand faster, his other one reaching down to fondle Lysander's soft balls. It caused his apprentice to groan, back arching and ass grinding against Kurt's own erection. "Please, it feels so good, don't stop, I'm close, so close..." His words tumbled out without restraint now, a breathless and soft litany of want and need and more, and Kurt provided, his closed fist pumping up and down as fast he could without actually hurting the boy. Lysander was writhing on his lap, face flush and skin sweaty, moving and thrusting right into Kurt's hand.

The Pokeball smith knew when Lysander was about to cum - he could feel how his balls pulled up, felt the twitching of his cock. He squeezed both a bit harder, breathing hotly against Lysander's ear. "Come," he said, and Lysander came with a yell, ropes of hot, fresh cum shooting out from his throbbing cock as Kurt kept on milking him, balls rolling between his fingers. Lysander's orgasm was strong, leaving the boy exhausted and relaxed in Kurt's arms when it was over.

Kurt hummed and kept on softly stroking that beautiful cock until Lysander was completely soft in his hands. Only then did he pull up the pyjama pants, careful not to dislodge the boy from his lap. He should feel Kurt's own fat cock for a while longer while riding that haze from coming. "Good boy," he praised him, and Lysander smiled dopey. There was a new look in his half-closed eyes, a new kind of admiration that had Kurt pulling him closer. "Now, it's time for some shut-eye, young man. Your old master needs to get it off as well."

He knew that the charade was true and well broken when Lysander looked up to him, eyes clear again. "I... could help you," he said, and there was an uncertainty in his voice. It took Kurt a while to identify it, and then his eyes widened a bit. Because Lysander seemed unsure if _he_ was welcome, now that Kurt had given him a bit of affection.

The boy wanted him, or at least _thought_ that he wanted him. Young and curious and open-minded, it wasn't impossible per se, only that Kurt'd never thought that Lysander would actually fall for him this fast. "I'd like that," he said raspily before swallowing. "I'd like that a lot." His words had a great effect on Lysander, who looked startled and delighted and far too eager. Kurt was almost 60, for heaven's sake - a young lad like Lysander shouldn't yearn for his old flesh. But he was far too egocentric, which was why he gladly accepted this unexpected turn of events.

His apprentice turned on Kurt's lap until he was straddling him - Kurt was helping him find a good position, his hands firm on Lysander's waist as he guided the young man. His own cock couldn't be hidden anymore - it was tenting out his pants, rock-hard and already drooling precum, which the cloth had soaked up into a wet patch. Lysander sucked in a breath when he saw on what he'd sat the whole time, and another when Kurt pulled it out, fat and long and thickly veined in his calloused palm, the swollen glans glistening moistly with precum. Having Lysander look at his cock, biting his lips and eyes dark with want, was a thrilling feeling - his shaft twitched slightly from the attention alone.

It only got better when Kurt took Lysander's right hand, who gave it to him willingly, and led those delicate fingers right against his throbbing member. They felt so impossible _soft_ , as if untouched from two months of hard work. Warm and soft and delicate, so unlike Kurt's own aged hands. Kurt grunted when Lysander began to rub his shaft, hand sliding up until he was holding him just underneath his cockhead, and back down until the knuckles brushed his coarse grey hair. Lysander's eyes were rapt on Kurt's cock, watching more precum drool out while tracing his thick veins running along the underside.

"Stop teasing me, boy," Kurt groaned, voice heavy with lust, hands dropping down to cup Lysander's ass. Finally, he was able to squeeze and massage him properly, his fingers digging into the supple cheeks through his pyjamas. "Give this old man a good wank."

"Yes, master," Lysander said with a hitch in his voice, and he had to know what it did to Kurt, those words from those lips in that exact tone. Pulling him closer, chest flush against flesh and trapping Lysander's still moving hand between them, Kurt leaned his forehead against the boy's, breathing in harshly as he started to rut into that warm, soft palm that was squeezing him so tightly now. They started to clumsily move together, eyes locked now after Lysander raised his head a bit, lips looking so delicious that Kurt couldn't help but kiss them.

It was better than anything his mind had come up within the last couple of months - sweet and hot and messy, tongues sliding against each other as Kurt hungrily deepened the kiss. They tipped over and to the side, onto Kurt's futon, and with one twist of his body, he was lying on top of Lysander, fucking into his closed hand, his own kneading that young and firm ass.

Kurt came way too fast - he'd have liked to go on longer, through the entire night, forever, just rutting against his boy. But he'd already been close to his limits from just touching Lysander's cock. It was over in less than a minute of frantic rocking and kissing and gasping, and then Kurt came, his cum spurting out of his twitching cock and onto Lysander's hand and his shirt as Kurt gasped and groaned into that hot, perfect mouth. They stayed like that for long moments, Lysander still squeezing his cock as if to milk him more, their lips moving together. And then it was over and Kurt rolled off of him, coming to rest close to Lysander's side.

"I think I need to wash up," the boy finally said a bit awkwardly. When he looked up, however, Kurt could still see that new admiration in his eyes. He chuckled breathlessly before smoothing down Lysander's curls with one hand, watching as his apprentice leaned into the touch like Kurt'd taught him over the months.


	4. The Outcome

**Chapter 4**

If Kurt wasn't so very aware of his own age, he'd have thought himself young again. Lysander certainly made it easy for him to feel like it, what with his new and very welcome attention to his master. Although Kurt was still the one who sets the pace, the young apprentice had started to seek him out for more than just his craft - leaning in for small kisses, sneaking in lingering touches himself and joining him in his futon at night. His eyes didn't seem to see the things age had done to Kurt, either, letting them and his hands roam over Kurt's body when they were rutting together underneath the blanket, lips hungrily looked as their cocks slid against each other, slick with lube or spit or both. Lysander was so very responsive, too - Kurt started to enjoy making him hot and bothered during working hours with increasingly bold touches and soft murmurs now that he could do so without risking the boy leaving him.

Kneading his perky ass while Lysander tried to set together a tricky Fast Ball had become one of his favourite pastimes. Especially since it made Lysander positively pounce at him the moment the doors were locked, begging for more than just teasing.

And more was something Kurt happily provided. He was itching to do more than just stroking his boy or rutting against his beautiful body. He wanted to properly taste him, which was why he had him writhing underneath his experienced hands and lips one night, mapping out this slender, youthful body of his. His hungry mouth wandered across his jawline and down his neck, tongue leaving a moist path to the chest where he spent a long time sucking and fondling Lysander's nipples. Then further down, teasing the soft skin by peppering it with small, hot kisses, his tongue circling his belly button and the curve of his hip bones. The boy was a leaking, throbbing-hard mess when he finally reached his cock, hands stroking Lysander's shivering thighs. Giving those a firm squeeze, he pushed them further apart, head dipping down as his lips hungrily sucked Lysander's precum-wet cockhead into his mouth.

"Kurt!" the boy moaned, arching his back and thrusting his hip upwards, his cock sliding deeper into Kurt's mouth. He tasted so clean and good, twitching from the sensation. Groaning, Kurt sucked him deeper still, one hand sliding from a thigh to fondle his balls as he hollowed out his cheeks and started to suck him off. Wet, smacking sounds filled the room as his head bobbed up and down, joined by heavy, laboured breathing and hitching moans from his apprentice. 

He pulled away before Lysander could come, wetting his own fingers with his mouth now that it was free. "Do you want to try something new?" he asked, voice dropping low, which had Lysander's eyes turn dark and wanting.

"Yes," he nearly hissed and propped his upper body onto his arms to look at Kurt, who was still between his parted legs. His skin was glistening with sweat, his face flushed and cock twitching needily. "What is it?"

"Just lay back down," Kurt ordered, feeling intense pleasure when Lysander immediately obeyed him. "Good boy," he added, watching the flush deepen - he was so eager to please Kurt, it was almost ridiculous. Propping one slender leg on his own shoulder, Kurt let one hand roam over the raised ass of his apprentice, fingers slipping between the perky cheeks. He could hear Lysander sucking in a breath when his fingertips brushed his puckered asshole.

"Are we going to do it?" he asked, voice breathy - Lysander sounded so _eager_ in a way that made Kurt wish he could say yes.

"Not today," Kurt said instead and rubbed the tight, virgin muscle. "I want you to enjoy it, after all." His head dipped back down again, his lips pressing against one of the boy's balls before sucking at it. Lysander's reply got lost in a groan that ended in a sharp hitch when Kurt pressed his middle finger past the pucker. Gods, but Lysander was so _tight_ \- Kurt couldn't even begin to imagine how his ass would feel, filled with his cock. Grunting, he switched to the other nut, tongue greedily massaging it while he sucked at it, then he descended back onto Lysander's cock, slick finger pushing deeper until it was fully inside, turning and thrusting and _fucking_ that hot, tight hole. He wondered if Lysander already felt more than just weirdness about it, and crooked his finger, letting the rough pad run across the hot, soft walls of his apprentice.

On the third try, his finger brushed and then rubbed against a very specific spot - and with a strangled cry, Lysander came straight into Kurt's mouth. He didn't hesitate to swallow his apprentice's cum while massaging Lysander's prostate until the boy had spent himself fully. Licking off the last smears of cum from Lysander's cock, Kurt pulled his finger out and kissed his way back up the sweaty skin where his apprentice was waiting for him, exhausted and mouth open for a deep kiss.

"How was it?" Kurt asked, very aware of his own, throbbing-hard cock nestled against Lysander's hip. He moved against the hot expanse of skin, pressing closer, lips ghosting over Lysander's.

The young man took a few deep breaths before answering. "Genius," he whispered, eyes shining. And then: "Can you show me how to suck you off?"

Kurt asked himself when Lysander had become so shameless in his honesty, the eager, curious words almost making him cum. "Yes," he breathed, sliding off of him to stand up. Lysander scrambled to his knees, striking in his flushed beauty, dark curls dishevelled and cock softening between his tanned thighs. His lips were red and swollen from their kisses and him biting them and they looked so pretty when the boy pressed his first kiss on Kurt's cock, right to the side of the fat shaft. After a moment of testing kisses, Kurt put a hand on the boy's head, fingers grasping the thick hair as he guided that pretty, open mouth to his glistening cockhead.

"Just the tip for now," he coached him, moaning when Lysander hungrily sucked in his cockhead, tongue already swirling over the exposed and angry-swollen glans. "And no teeth."

He was very much clumsy with Kurt's cock - despite his age, he'd retained both his generous length and hefty girth. But Lysander was enthusiastic about trying this out, his saliva dribbling from his full lips as they stretched tightly around his shaft, tongue rubbing and wetting the hot flesh in his mouth as he hollowed out his cheeks, sucking on Kurt like he would on a popsicle. He wasn't very good at it, but Gods, he looked so hot and willing down on his knees, exactly as Kurt had fantasized about it. It was certainly enough to bring the old man to his limits, hips jutting out in his urge to get more of his cock into him, to just grab his head and fuck his mouth raw. He obviously didn't - they had still time for Kurt to teach him how to get used to his size. Maybe even to teach him to swallow his cock fully, so that Kurt might enjoy that throat.

Fingers combing through Lysander's curls, a touch which the boy tried to lean into, Kurt watched him with laboured breath, body heating up more and more. The slurps and smacks the boy made were downright indecent, and when those delicate fingers wrapped around his shaft, rubbing and massaging his cock whilst keeping sucking, Kurt could feel himself getting closer to his own orgasm. "Yes... just like that, Lysander, keep going... You do so well, my boy, sucking me like this," he murmured and felt him speed up, head bobbing up and down his cockhead. Another inch slipped in, making the boy struggle on it, and Kurt let go, his cock throbbing and spurting out his own load.

Lysander chocked on it. With wide eyes, he slipped off Kurt's still spitting cock - the next load of hot ropes splashed on his flushed face. Kurt groaned and let his hip thrust forward, his fat meat smearing his cum all over Lysander's surprised face. When he was done, Kurt couldn't help but laugh before he dropped to his knees, cupping the boy's face with both worn hands. "Come here," he said, and Lysander did. "Sorry, I should've warned you. Let's clean you up."

"Does it always taste like that?" Lysander said, face pulled into a slight grimace. It made Kurt snort again.

"It changes a little with the diet," he then explained as he grabbed a tissue to wipe away the mess he'd created. "Some get used to it and enjoy swallowing it."

"Like you did." Lysander looked at him with a cheeky smile, looking inordinately pleased.

Kurt laughed again, standing up to get rid of the tissue. "Yes. You're very tasty, my boy, so you'll have to put up with being my dessert." His words made Lysander blush furiously again.

\---

This was their life now: They woke up and prepared for the day, working closely together as Kurt taught Lysander the craft of Pokeball smithing. They had customers come by, and once even a Professor visiting them with a request for a special order that Kurt worked on. When they were alone, either in the shop or outside, taking care of the valuable Apricorn trees, they were riling each other up with teasing words and wandering hands. At nightfall, they would continue their exploration of each other. Kurt felt content with his lot, proud of his accomplishment of seducing his young lover. It was hard to put it into proper words, so he expressed it with his whole body until Lysander squirmed and writhed in heat and exploded under Kurt's hands or lips. And Lysander seemed to feel the same, always eager to emulate Kurt's doings on his master's body, no matter his wrinkles and spots and grey hairs.

There was only one thing missing in Kurt's life now, and for that, he took great measures to prepare Lysander properly. Luckily, the boy _loved_ being fingered by Kurt's calloused and crooked digits, no matter the stretch and burn he had to feel when Kurt was a bit too impatient to open him up. He could take on two fingers fine now, even riding them while on Kurt's lap, their cocks shoved together as Lysander canted and moved his hips, scissored fingers sliding in and out with each frantic move to the point where Kurt had a hard time to even hit the prostate.

When they were done and cleaned up, they laid back down on Kurt's futon, his arms wrapped around Lysander's nubile, warm body to pull him close. Lysander followed the pull with a content sigh, his head leaning onto Kurt's shoulder as he nuzzled him.

"Have you ever liked guys?"

The question was a bit of a surprise - they hadn't really talked about their previous lovers. Kurt doubted that Lysander even had much experience before coming to him - maybe some fooling around, but nothing serious. He knew that his boy was a virgin at least - Lysander had told him a few days before when asking how long it would take for them to finally have sex.

"I guess," he replied. "Guys and gals, mind you. I don't really prefer any gender, although I was married for a long time to my Miriam."

"Your wife?" Lysander perked up and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Kurt's jawline.

"Just so. We had one daughter before she died. Susan was still young when that happened, so I was busy raising her and later Maizie, my granddaughter. That and my work, as well as my age... It slowed things down for me." Kurt smiled despite the ache in his chest and this time, he leant into the lingering kiss Lysander gave him. Bless the boy, he tried to cheer him up, wasn't he? "At least now I have you, as long as you let me."

"I won't go," Lysander said, his pretty face looking first confused, then determined. "I really like you, Kurt."

Kurt hummed, but he didn't really believe those naive words. "You're young," he told him, not noticing something like upset crossing Lysander's face. "And I'm just an old man. You'll find someone closer to your age and fall in love, it's only natural, which is why I cherish my time with you so much."

Lysander stared at him, eyes big and sad and upset, but he didn't argue. He'd understand, Kurt was sure. He'd cheated to get this, had manipulated Lysander until he got his affection. But life went on, for both of them, and while Lysander would mature and wisen up, Kurt would only get older and weaker. Already he wasn't attractive anymore, and one day Lysander would wake up and realize that he was fooling around with an old man whose prime had long passed.

It would be a bitter day, but Kurt had done this to himself. Which was why he had to enjoy Lysander thoroughly as long as he could.

\---

Lysander was quiet the next day. Too quiet, despite it being sunny and warm and overall cheerful outside.

Maybe Kurt had been too honest with him. Maybe the day of Lysander realizing what he was doing had already come, and the thought made Kurt feel sick. He'd thought he would have more time. Not feeling ready, the old man kept his distance to the quiet boy who worked silently for himself, looking thoughtful and torn.

Kurt had ruined it by not entertaining Lysander's thoughts of love. He should've been more romantic with him, promising him a life together as long as Kurt had left. But he genuinely liked the young man - he would not chain him to himself until he died. _Just for a few years_ , he'd thought. Until Lysander finished his apprenticeship. A few years that wouldn't ruin the boy, and then Lysander would go and explore the world and find someone as young and attractive as he was.

He didn't notice the quick glances Lysander shot him - nor the determination in those green eyes whenever it happened. Kurt was too busy fearing for Lysander to tell him that he wanted to stop them being lovers - or worse yet, that he wanted to quit his apprenticeship. It had been a good three months, but it should've been even better months to come yet.

It was with a heavy feeling that Kurt closed shop that day, putting away his tools with slow moves, not the quick sorting of the weeks before. He could hear Lysander in the bathroom getting ready and slipping into the bedroom to roll out their futons. With a sigh, Kurt got ready himself, wondering what would happen next.

He didn't expect there to be only one futon on the floor. Nor Lysander lying on it, stark naked and with a mulish expression on his face, jaw set and looking stubborn.

Kurt's cock immediately perked up with interest, even when his mind was slow with shock. Something was... well, not wrong, but a lot different than he'd thought. He had prepared himself as well as he could for a polite rejection - Lysander would've been nice cutting his ties with Kurt, being gentle about it and maybe pitying. He would've told Kurt that the old man was right, and what they were doing was wrong. At least in Kurt's head, those scenarios had happened.

So he simply stood there, looking ridiculous in his sleeping clothes and a prominent boner while gaping at the naked boy who was cocking his head in confusion before spreading his legs invitingly.

"I can't do this alone," Lysander finally said, a frown on his pretty features. "So come here."

Kurt moved, again shocked by Lysander's forward words. He'd always had the reigns in their relationship, so hearing the tentative command in Lysander's voice was a big surprise. But it was a welcome one - with his mind still too slow to keep up with the situation, Kurt's body took over and he was all over Lysander before he could think about it, drawn into a deep, almost desperate kiss and his hands roaming over his youthful body.

"I thought you'd-" He didn't speak further, his mouth deciding that it would rather kiss all over Lysander's jawline, but the boy seemed to understand him.

" _Never_ ", he said with a strong voice, pulling Kurt into a tight hug while tugging at his clothes. "I don't know why you'd think that. I _want_ you, you hear me?" To Kurt's shock and dismay, Lysander's voice broke halfway through his declaration, defiant tears glinting in his eyes. Immediately, Kurt tried to kiss them away, hands gentle now as he cupped his apprentice's face with them. "And if you don't believe me, I'll just show you how much I care for you," the boy continued, and suddenly Kurt was pushed onto his back and Lysander was sliding down, hands pulling down his pants as his mouth descended onto the old man's cock, swallowing down his cockhead and Kurt's words of protest in one swoop.

He'd gotten good at it, ever since his first try - already, he was sucking and swallowing on Kurt's fat cock with relative ease, one hand tight and pumping around the shaft, the other one warm on his saggy balls. Kurt groaned, hips jutting slightly as his breath grew errant.

He didn't notice when one of Lysander's hands pulled off. Nor the sound of the boy fumbling with the half-empty bottle of lube. He was staring up and at the ceiling, mind still whirling - only this time from pure pleasure as Lysander sucked and stroked and licked his cock until Kurt was leaking, his precum coating Lysander's hot tongue, cock throbbing and ready to release.

And then Lysander let it pop out of his mouth, moaning hotly against the shaft.

"Lysander?" Kurt asked and struggled to prop himself up. His eyes widened when he saw what the boy was doing - he was fingering himself with his free hand, body twisted to be able to reach. Swallowing harshly, Kurt watched those slender finger push into that tight arse. "What..."

"I want you," Lysander said, a keen in his voice that had Kurt's cock twitching again. "I want you, and I don't care what might happen in a few years."

Something slid off Kurt's shoulders with those words. A heavy, foreboding weight he hadn't even known about. Kurt sat up and reached out for Lysander, who hastily climbed into his embrace, shuddering when Kurt's old, but still strong hands roamed down his back before landing on those perfect ass cheeks. He didn't ask him if he was sure about this - he'd seen it in Lysander's eyes.

He wouldn't ruin this for himself anymore. Nor would he ruin Lysander's first time with needless questions. Instead, he kissed him and felt Lysander relax into it. "Lie down on your stomach for me," Kurt then said, letting go with one last squeeze. Lysander's breath hitched as he did what he was ordered, legs still lightly spread and cock hard and leaking, pressing into the soft futon.

Kurt took a deep breath before putting his hands back onto Lysander's ass, spreading the cheeks easily and running his thumbs over the crack. He stared at the lubed hole, pink and puckered and already twitching. Bowing down, he didn't hesitate before pushing his tongue into Lysander, face buried between those soft and perky cheeks, hands kneading and pulling as he started to eat him out with hungry lips and a broad tongue. He could hear Lysander gasp, and then the boy was writhing and rutting, hands grasping for some hold as this new sensation washed over him.

"M-master!" he keened, and Kurt was sure Lysander had at least some inkling what it did to him, to hear his title spoken in such a wanting, obscene way. He answered the call by adding a calloused finger, stretching him and fucking him slowly with both his tongue and his finger. He opened up so beautifully - already he was a bit gaping, with the lube and the spit and Kurt's experience. His tongue slid out when the second finger joined in, but he kept licking and circling the muscle, turning and scissoring his two fingers and adding a third.

It felt both like hours and like seconds when Kurt finally deemed him ready. Lysander was a mess with tears of overstimulation running down his cheeks, his whole body flushed and quivering, cock throbbing with need and pent-up energy. When Kurt sat up, the boy immediately rolled back onto his back, legs spread and hip raised. "Please," he said, half plea and half command, and Kurt moved between his legs, pushing closer until his cockhead was pressing against Lysander's virgin hole. Grabbing his thighs tightly, Kurt pulled Lysander's ass higher and he felt his cockhead slip past the loosened muscle, still tight and hot and perfect around his fat member.

"Nnngh!" Lysander closed his eyes, face pulled into short discomfort from the stretch Kurt was letting him feel. The old man waited for a few moments until Lysander relaxed again and then thrust forward, sliding in a bit deeper. Inch for inch, Kurt would let Lysander get used to his big cock, adding more lube when needed, soothing words falling from his lips as he claimed the boy as his. When he was finally balls-deep inside Lysander, he sank down and ontop the boy, lips searching his to pull him into a distracting kiss.

"Relax," he murmured and continued peppering him with kisses and praise. "Look at you, such a good boy, so beautiful around my cock," he'd murmur, and slowly, Lysander's breath calmed down, arms wrapped around Kurt and eyes opening again. "Ready?" Kurt asked, and there was a soft nod.

It was all that he needed to start moving again. Slow and tedious, he pulled halfway out again before sliding right back in, repeating this tortuous pace until it became easy, Lysander slick and stretched and welcoming. "That's good, isn't it? Does it still hurt?"

"No," Lysander breathed and moved his own hips, pushing against Kurt's testing thrusts. "Can you go faster?" he then asked. Kurt could indeed, his pace growing faster, thrusts still deep but with more strength behind. Already his saggy balls were slapping Lysander's ass with each thrust, and now the boy was moaning with pleasure underneath him, Kurt's fat cock hitting the right spots inside.

"Feels good," he whispered hotly, his grip around Kurt a bit stronger as he clung to him. "Feels really good- harder, please, just there!"

So harder Kurt pushed, his balls slapping and their bodies rocking against each other. With a grunt, Kurt grasped one leg and pushed it up, making more room for him to slam his cock deeper into Lysander's tight hole. His whole cock was squeezed and massaged by his hot inner walls. It just felt so _good_ , and Kurt soon forgot about anything else but Lysander, pounding rapidly into him and making his boy _scream_ his name.

"Yes! Yes! Kurt! Master, more, please! Don't stop, please don't stop, oh _gods_ master, more!" It was a loud chant, breathless and driving Kurt into horny madness. They clung to each other, both moving frantically for just a bit more power, just a bit more friction, Lysander's cock trapped between their bellies and his ass pounded by Kurt's throbbing cock. When Kurt felt himself only moments from coming, he hastily slipped one aged hand between them, fingers wrapping around Lysander's cock before he started to jerk him off.

They both came in succession; first Kurt, who lodged his cock as deep as he could inside Lysander's ass, his cum already pumping out; then Lysander, brought over the edge by the sensation of his master's hot semen filling his ass and his strong, calloused hand milking him dry.

It left them exhausted, sweaty and short of breath, their limbs weak and heart racing. Kurt slumped over, into Lysander's arms, their lips finding together.

Kurt could taste Lysander's smile under his own and stopped worrying completely.

\---

Maizie ran towards the traditional building, her pigtails bobbing around. She was tightly wrapped up in her warm parker, her boots crunching in the snow. Her father was still talking to some old friends of mum's, so she had run off without him, eyes set on her grandfather's house.

"Granpa!" she shouted as she opened the doors. "Granpa, I'm here!" She stopped short when it wasn't her grandfather sitting at the workbench. Eyes wide, Maizie stared at the young stranger - and his female-cut clothes.

"You must be Maizie," the pretty man said with a bright smile. Immediately, Maizie smiled as well, although she was still confused.

"That's me," she replied and climbed off of her snow boots. "And who're you?"

"I'm Lysander, your grandfather's apprentice," the man said, sounding proud of it. Maizie thought she could easily like this pretty man.

"Nice to meet you, Lysander!" she said cheerfully. And then: "Why are you wearing girly work clothes?"

"Excuse me?" He looked baffled, which Maizie thought was hilarious. He was wearing them, after all.

"Your work clothes. That cut there, on the lapel and the legs? It's how women wear them. Didn't Granpa told you?"

"He didn't", Lysander said, a funny expression on his face. "He's out in the back. Shall we go see him and ask him about my clothes?"

Maizie giggled and took the man's hand, her boots in her other one. "Do you think he took a mickey out of you?" she asked him.

"I think he did," Lysander said with that same weird expression. But when he smiled, it looked very nice. "For eight months now. Let's make sure to scold him."

"Uh-hu!" Maizie agreed. Yep, she liked him already. And when she saw how Granpa and he talked to each other, all smiles and fondness as Lysander confronted him about the prank, she was very happy as well.

**Author's Note:**

> **You're welcome to leave prompts and suggestions in my Idea Collection. ☺**


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